Paul and Lucy Spadoni periodically live in Tuscany to explore Paul’s Italian roots, practice their Italian and enjoy “la dolce vita.”
All work is copyrighted and may not be reprinted without written permission from the author, who can be contacted at www.paulspadoni.com

Monday, April 4, 2016

About 20
minutes from Montecatini and Pescia, up in the foothills of the Alpi
Apuane, lies the little village of Marliana. On most days, it is
quiet, with few people on the sidewalks or the piazzas. But if you
visit on a day when the local people hold a sagra, you’ll see
an entirely different version of Marliana.

Marliana viewed from the street above

Necci batter

Yesterday,
we were drawn by an poster advertising the 53th annual Sagra di
Frittelle Dolci. A sagra is a local fair, usually a celebration of a
local food or a raw ingredient, and there is a sagra somewhere for
every traditional Italian food. This one featured a fried dessert
called necci, made with chestnut flour.

“Attending
a sagra is a way to get a taste of Italian country life and food
culture and get away from tourist crowds,” writes Martha Bakerjian,
an Italy travel expert for About.com. “You order food to be cooked
by locals with a passion for the local cuisine, then sit at communal
tables with other locals to eat. Eating at a sagra is usually
inexpensive as well.”

Adding chestnut wood to the fire

Pouring in the oil

Netting the necci

Chestnuts
were once vital for the survival of every family in the Tuscan hills.
So important was the chestnut that it was known as the “bread tree”
and its fruits “tree bread.” The nuts were collected, dried and
ground into flour to make bread and many essential meals.

The sagra
was scheduled to start at 3 p.m., but we arrived in town around noon
and sat at an outside table in the Piazza del Popolo, where we ate a
long, slow lunch at the local restaurant. In so doing, we were able
to see the local families involved in setting up the central food
booth and the huge kettle used for frying the necci. I wandered into
the enclosed area several times to observe the preparations up close
and talk to some of the men from the town. People-watching is one of our favorite activities in Italy.

A neccio, with a few bites already taken.

Pablo
Luisi, who said his family has lived in Marliana for at least 300
years, told me that the sagra would probably lose money, but the town
had a second one in the summer that would attract more people and
thus pay the expenses for the spring sagra. It was a tradition
important to the long-time residents of the city and a way to honor
the memory of bygone times, when chestnut flour was “the only thing
available.”

The kettle,
filled with palm oil, is heated by a wood fire, fueled, of course, by
chestnut branches, and the heat is trapped by a curtain of branches,
leaves and sod over which the men periodically pour water to prevent
the curtain from catching fire. The batter is made only with water,
chestnut flour and a little salt, and it is formed into pancakes
which are then deep-fried in the batter and dipped out with a special
tool. In smaller-scale productions, necci are fried in pans the same
way we make pancakes. Then they are rolled up like crepes and filled
with ricotta or Nutella. I choose ricotta for my filling, considering
it to be more authentic in holding with past traditions.

And are
they delicious? No, not really. Maybe if they added sugar and
chocolate they would be more appealing, but with the creamy ricotta
filling, I can see why they would have been regarded as a treat for
people on limited diets, and I’m certain that they are healthier
than the sweet desserts we typically eat today.

Not long
after the first neccio came out of the kettle, a band from Versiglia
made up of veterans of the alpini—a special alpine unit of the
Italian army—treated us to a few songs in the piazza. Then they
headed a parade that looped through the town and consisted first of
the band, then of alpini veterans from other nearby towns, then local
dignitaries such as the town’s mayor, and lastly the town’s
citizens and other fair-goers such as ourselves.

Alpini playing in the parade.

The
procession stopped in front of a war monument while the band played
another patriotic song, and the mayor and a couple of alpini members
gave short speeches. If this had been a larger town or a more
elaborate sagra, the festivities probably would have continued into
the night and included a communal meal. The streets also would have
been lined with booths selling other traditional food, as well as
jewelry, clothing and knick-knacks. The Marliana sagra had only a
half dozen other booths. We left after the speeches, thinking that we
had experienced the main events and had tasted part of the true
flavor of life in this beautiful village.

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About Me

First off, before you hassle me about our title, Lucy thought of it. Yes, I know some people may think broad is derogatory, but the etymology is uncertain and she doesn’t find it offensive, and it made me laugh. We have been married since 1974 and are empty-nesters now, which allows me to bring my submerged Italophilia into the open. We first came to live in Italy from February-April in 2011 and have returned during the same months every year. From 2011-2015, we lived in San Salvatore, at the foot of the hilltop city Montecarlo, where my paternal grandparents were born, raised and, in 1908, married. In late 2015, we bought a home in Montecarlo. We come for a variety of purposes: We want to re-establish contact with distant cousins in both Nonno’s and Nonna’s families, we want to learn the language and see what it is like to live as Italians in modern Italy, we like to travel and experience different cultures. Even if we aren’t successful at achieving these purposes, we love Italy and enjoy every moment here, so there is no chance we will be disappointed. I am grateful to God for giving me a wife who is beautiful, clever, adaptable and willing to jump into my dreams wholeheartedly.